A Once and Future King
by KenSan1990
Summary: He danced down the sidewalk. He was like nothing that Kaoru had ever seen-until he passed out on her. Now she feels compelled to find out more about this mysterious red haired man. Her journey will take her back to a summer that should be forgotten. KK
1. Parts 1 through 3

A/N: This is going to be a two shot only because its probably going to wind up being over 10,000 words. Don't ask where the idea came from, it just came...

* * *

**I.**

* * *

Kaoru had always stuck her nose where it wasn't wanted. People thought that time would stop the little girl's obsession with wanting to know everything there was to know about whatever it was she was interested in at the time. They learned that her innate fascinations only grew as she did.

She never had a real clear mission when it came to finding information. Though she worked with a magazine, she was always a little lopsided when it came to putting out articles, mostly because she knew that she got so involved in the stories that she forgot that they needed to be written. Her editors told her that she should be writing biographies instead of articles, but she would always laugh at them.

The truth was that there was never anyone that was _that_ interesting to write about. At the end of all of her research she could probably come up with twenty pages, and maybe only six of them would have been decent. Those were the six that were infrequently published.

This truth held up until she was twenty seven years old. Kaoru sat on a bench with her hands folded on her knees, her portfolio held between her thighs as she looked at the people that were walking one way or another, unconcerned that she stared at them absently and imagined what kind of people they were.

She drew a throwaway camera from her pocket and wound it up. She liked to take pictures of people that she found especially interesting, and just across the way was a trio with their arms linked together like they were heading to Oz. She clicked the picture and brought the camera down, winding it again.

Her editor had sent her on a mission. She had been told that she needed to have a good report within the next two weeks or her job would be terminated. She had loudly protested this, kicking over his trashcan and telling him how whenever she published an article that the circulation of the magazine was up. He only scoffed at her and sent her out of his office. Despite throwing a temper tantrum, Kaoru knew that she had to do something. Three months was far too long, especially without a paycheck.

She stood up from her place, her portfolio tucked beneath her arm, and she slid the camera back in the pocket of her coat. The bus had just pulled up and she was about to get on. She was pulling waded bills out of her skirt pockets and hoping that it would be enough for both the bus and a coffee later that night.

Just as she tried to get on, someone was hauled off, thrown to his knees before her. Her portfolio dropped and splattered against the pavement. The latch broke. "What the hell!" she was looking at the bus driver who was still on his feet, his hands smacking together where he was proud that he had thrown the man off.

The man who had been thrown off drew to a standing position and brushed off the knees of his torn jeans. He didn't say a word, just walked away from the scene with his hands deep in his pockets. He seemed to be skipping as he walked. Her gaze was kept on him, and she laughed when he suddenly twirled, the tail of his trench coat blowing up in the movement.

"You getting on lady?" the bus driver asked. Kaoru looked to him, and then to the waded money in her hand.

"Uh…no, wrong line," she said. She reached down and picked up her portfolio. The bus doors shut and the bus trundled on down the busy streets.

Kaoru began walking in the direction that she saw the man walking, or rather, dancing down. She brushed passed all of the people who were appalled by the man that had likely just flicked them out of his way.

There came a clearing where all the people seemed to part and she could get a clear look at the man as he stood before a shop. He was staring in with a smile on his face, and he took a big whiff of whatever floated out of the establishment. The closer Kaoru got, the more she realized that it was a coffee shop. She had been planning on getting coffee.

The man entered, and she followed behind like his little shadow. She wanted to get a good look at his face; maybe get a picture. The more she thought about it, the more she thought that he looked like a good candidate for an article. She didn't know what it was, but there was something that was fascinating about him. Maybe it was the fact that he wasn't afraid to dance down a busy sidewalk.

The moment that she entered, she was met with a chaotic scene. The man behind the counter was yelling at the man who had just entered. Kaoru looked at the man, obviously homeless, who seemed to be begging to the man behind the counter for something, his finger jabbing against the glass.

Before Kaoru knew it, he was thrown into a table by a customer who he was begging for money from. Though it was barbaric, Kaoru had the sickening notion that this wasn't the first time this man had done this.

She approached him and offered him a hand. He didn't take it immediately, only sat like a wounded child and looked at his hands. They were worn away. They were hardened and somewhat crooked at the joints in his fingers. The journalist knelt beside him at the displeasure of the customers. Another employee had come around and was hauling the man to his feet, picking up the table as if it were more sacred than human life.

"Are you alright?" Kaoru asked the man. His deep crimson hair was covering most of his face. She reached out to move the curtain away, revealing the face beneath. The only thing that she could notice was the there was a steady stream of blood coming from his nose. She reached over to one of the tables and plucked up a napkin trying to wipe it away.

The man behind that counter was yelling at them, and Kaoru, not wanting to incite anymore panic, took the man by his arm and led him outside.

"Sir?"

"Fine," he replied. His voice was hoarse, like it wasn't used too often. "Thank you," he added, and he took the napkin from her and ripped a piece away, shoving it up one of his nostrils. "It's been happening a lot."

Kaoru kept her hand around his elbow and led him to another bench where they sat. She pulled the camera out of her pocket and put it to her eye. "Hey, look at me would ya?" she asked. When he did, she quickly took the picture. She began winding it up again, intending to have another picture. The man, however, put his hand up beside his face, almost like a practiced moved, denying her the opportunity. "Camera shy?"

He bobbed his shoulders. "Not really," he said, and he brought his hand back to his nose, probing. Kaoru was more interested in his left cheek. Beyond the curtain of hair she saw a few markings that looked carved. She moved his hair out of his face again. She got a good view of the cross shaped mark. It was faded by time, as was the rest of his face. He'd obviously spent too much time in the sun. His face was red of sunburn now, but it looked leathery underneath; like an old shoe left out too long.

After she had pulled back his hair, he took the liberty of sweeping it up and pulling it back, his hands twisting it so it would stay in a tight knot down his back. His body quivered.

Kaoru was too busy to notice. She was rummaging through all of her coat pockets knowing that her tape recorder had to be somewhere. She found it in an inner pocket along with extra tapes. It sat on her lap as she fiddled to put a tape in it. She clicked a few buttons and oriented herself towards him.

"Hey, you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

"What for?"

"Nothing. I just…think you're interesting," she shifted the tape recorder closer. "Could you tell me your name?"

"Only if you tell me yours first," he bargained. Kaoru smiled.

"My name is Kaoru Kamiya. Now it's your turn."

"Call me Shinta," he said. Kaoru nodded, and she pressed a hand on his shoulder. He was much too fidgety for his own good. "Are you conducting an interview Miss Kamiya?" he asked.

"Kinda. Not really though, I mean. I just get interested in people; that's all."

He had curled his mouth to make a sound, but nothing came out. He was just as surprised at this as she was. Without warning, Kaoru found his head lying in her chest, and she just about smacked him, thinking that he was trying to be perverted. That was when she noticed that his eyes were closed and there was still blood coming from his nose.

"Oh God…"she turned the tape recorder off and jammed it into her pocket. Shinta was rested against the back of the bench, his head flopping back as if his neck were rubber. Kaoru pulled out her cell phone and began to dial.

* * *

**II.**

* * *

Kaoru was forced to leave Shinta to the help of the paramedics. Her editor called her shortly after, wanting to see her about what she was doing for the article.

Before Kaoru went before her editor, she went and had her film developed even though she hadn't used all of it. She wanted to see if any of the pictures sparked her editor's interest. She had left her name with several people she had met up with and had gotten theirs in return.

When she arrived at the office of the magazine, she was taken directly in front of her editor. He raised his brows and asked: "Well, what have you got for me?"

"Um…"she pulled broken latch off of her portfolio and dumped the pictures onto his desk. "I saw some people. I wanted to see what you thought about them."

Kamatari Honjo was Kaoru's long time editor and friend, but if there was anyone that he pressed hardest on, it was Kaoru. He took great pride in the good work that Kaoru did, but he knew that she was a bit slow when it came to gathering anything interesting. The one thing that he was certain of was that she was decisive. Her giving him the pictures and asking him to go eenie, meanie, minie, moe was like asking him to take over her job.

"You don't have anything?" he asked, tossing aside the pictures thinking about how boring all of them were.

"Well, yes and no."

Kamatari got to the end of the line and was stuck on the final picture that Kaoru had taken. "Well…"he said, staring at it with a twitching grin on his face. After several moments it fell. "Where'd you take this one?" he asked, handing her the picture.

"I was at a bus stop with that guy. Said his name was Shinta…I got a bit of tape, but you see, he kinda passed out on me and I had to call an ambulance."

Kamatari placed the picture on his desk. "Shinta you say?" he asked.

"Yeah. Why?"

Kamatari stood up and went over to a filing cabinet. He knelt down to a bottom draw marked _'80-'89_. It was stuffed to the brim with what looked like old manila files and faded magazines that hadn't been touched in years. Kaoru wasn't surprised. Most of the stuff in there was as old as she was.

Kamatari pulled out several magazine issues, one of which she could clearly make out as _TV Guide_. He came back over and fanned the magazines on top of his desk, the picture that Kaoru had taken back in his hand. "What are these for?"

The issue of _TV Guide_ was placed on top of all the others. Kaoru pulled it closer to examine it. The issue was from September 1983. A new sitcom was being introduced on the cover. "That was a pretty good series. Funny," Kamatari said. He pointed to the small boy that was standing in the front, his hands on his hips, a wide smile crossing his face. The rest of the family was chaotic, but he looked happy. "Know who that is?"

"Um, no I don't actually," Kaoru said, but she pulled it closer just to get a better look.

"He went by Kenny Hartman there," said Kamatari. "Nine years old. He made that show, and that show made him," Kamatari moved the _TV Guide_ issue out of the way and pulled up another magazine. He flipped to one of the articles, this time showing what looked like the same kid but a few years older. "Twelve," that magazine was tossed aside. Another was brought up; another article was flipped to. "Fourteen." One last magazine was brought up, and this one there was no need to flip to an article. On the cover was the boy, sunglasses covering most of his face. He looked a bit disgruntled, almost like he was about to give the finger to the photographer. "Fifteen."

"Looks like a rebel without a cause," Kaoru said, inching the picture closer to her. Kamatari laid the picture Kaoru had taken next to the magazine cover.

"Look a little familiar to you?" Kamatari asked. Kaoru didn't even have to guess what he was talking about. She brought them both closer to her, looking over the jaw line, the cheekbones and the foreheads. Though the hair color was different, Kaoru couldn't deny the similarity.

"So…you think this Shinta is Kenny Hartman?"

"I know that Shinta is Kenny Hartman. It would be appropriate…he'd be about 40 now," Kamatari scooped up the magazines. "You see, between 1983 and 1989, everyone knew who Kenny Hartman was. He was on TV, in movies, and he always had interviews. I got the chance to interview him in '86 while he was in the middle of filming a movie. He was a sweet kid, but kinda quirky at times," Kamatari admitted. "In the summer of '89, he disappeared. He was in the middle of a movie; his career was at its peak. All of sudden he quit, or…something along those lines. A few months later he fired his managers, his parents naturally. He tried to get a few gigs but by that time his name was blacklisted. After that, everyone sort of forgot Kenny Hartman. The biz moved on…didn't care what happened to him." Kamatari sighed.

"That's kinda sad."

Kamatari nodded and then he shrugged. "No one ever really got the full story on him. During that summer it was mostly speculation. Every tabloid had a reason for what happened, but none of them actually told the truth because no one around Kenny would open their mouths, not even his parents."

The longer Kamatari spoke, the more the gears in Kaoru's head began to turn. She took her photograph off of the desk and stared at it. Shinta's eyes were the most striking. They were a strong blue color that seemed to fade into purple just by how dark they were.

"I want to write a story on him," Kaoru said. Kamatari perked up. "I know where he is. I called an ambulance to take him to the hospital. I can talk to him. But…I want to talk to the people that were around him a lot back then," Kamatari got out of his seat once more. Kaoru waited patiently as Kamatari gathered a few more items, returning the magazines to their rightful places as he did.

He set out five photographs. "These are the five people you'll have the best chance with, though I haven't talked to some of them in many years," he pointed to a picture of a man with a rock hard face and long black hair in his eyes. "You might recognize him the most. Hiko Seijuuro, the director. Then there's Sanosuke Sagara," he pointed to a picture of a spiky haired man. "Everyone calls him Sam. Then there's Akira Kiyosato, and Tomoe "Tammy" Yukishiro. I don't know where they are, but if you talk to Hiko or Sam you'll probably find them. And finally Kogoro Katsura, producer. He and Hiko worked close together, so he was relatively close to Kenny."

"How would I talk to any of them? They're probably really busy…"Kaoru said. Kamatari swiped up the photographs.

"I have Hiko on speed dial, don't worry. I'm vehement about interviews with him but…he's scarce. I think he'll take this call though." Kamatari winked and picked up the phone on his desk.

* * *

**III.**

* * *

Kaoru arrived on a sound stage that was crawling with employees trying to put everything into place. This was the latest job for the director, and Kaoru had been told that if she wanted an interview, she would have to do it on the set. She was quick to get there the next morning. She had a fresh tape in the recorder and her notepad full of questions.

"Careful!" she heard someone yell at her. She moved out of the way of a pair of men carrying something that she probably didn't want to identify.

"You must be Kamatari's little lackey, huh?" a deep voice boomed. Kaoru turned around and saw the man from the picture, but it was obvious that he had aged since it was taken. He was wearing a pair of reading glasses and his hair, once deep obsidian, was now riddled with little gray streaks.

"I'm Kaoru Kamiya, and I'm a journalist, not a lackey," she said, but she extended her hand either way. Hiko didn't take it, only pressed his knuckles into his sides where he had his fists balled up. After a moment of drinking her in, the director led her into what looked like a mobile office. There was quiet once he shut the door.

The room was sparse. It was a quick put together with a desk, two chairs and a portable filing cabinet and safe pushed up against one wall. The only part of the office that looked personal were the film posters hanging on the walls. Hiko sat down behind the desk.

"You've got about thirty minutes until we shoot," Hiko said. "That's about all the time you're gonna get out of me."

Kaoru set the tape recorder on her legs and hit the play button. "Alright, then I'll made it brief as I can. I've come here to talk to you about someone known as Kenny Hartman," she said.

"Kenny?" he shook his head. "What about the brat?"

Kaoru pulled out the photograph of him and handed it to Hiko. "I found him wandering yesterday; at least, I think that's him. That's what Kamatari told me when I showed him."

There was a mix of disdain and regret spread across Hiko's face. "That's him. All grown up, the little twit," he gave the picture back to Kaoru. "Those eyes are unmistakable."

"Well, I wanted to know what you could tell me about him. How much you know."

"That'll take more than a half hour," he scoffed. "But I suppose you mean about what happened in '89?"

"Yes. Will you tell me what happened?" she asked. Hiko gave her a half cocked look and pulled what she thought was a flask from the desk drawer. He took a long drink before capping it and looking her straight in the face.

"Look, you and every other journalist in the world has asked me what happened. I don't know how many ways I can tell you that you're not ever going to find out. It's not really that important," but Kaoru had a way of reading people, and she could tell that the story was on the tip of his tongue.

"It's been over twenty years though. If I published it now, would it really matter?"

"I'll tell you anything else you want to know about him, just not that."

"Fine," Kaoru looked down at her notes and sighed. "When did you two first meet?"

"When did we first meet? Probably when I worked with him in some of the early sitcom episodes. The show lasted till he was twelve years old; I worked with him mostly in '83 and '84. Before that, I had only seen him for a couple of commercial shoots. The kid had raw talent that was for sure."

"How old were you then?"

"How old was I? Twenty five. I was just starting out in directing. At first, I was an assistant, and I was with some of the talent scouts when they were holding auditions for the sitcom."

"He struck you?"

"Some. I think maybe it was because he was such a ham. He walked up in front of us, put his hands in his pockets, smiled and said: 'I want the part, and I know you're going to give it to me.'" Hiko let out a small chuckle and began to weave his tale.

* * *

It was early spring when they began scouting for the sitcom _It's a Big Deal_. Hiko found himself lingering around with the talent scouts, mostly looking at his watch or at the script. There were plenty of kids to go around, but there were few that were striking the scouts who would whisper under their breaths and mark on the pages that had the names of the applicants.

"Take a chill pill would you?" one of the scouts asked. Hiko knew he was pacing every so often, and he had to stop himself. "We'll find a good kid, it'll just take time," Hiko shook his head. They had been telling him all day, but he didn't think that it would happen anytime soon. Most of the children were whining because their parents were pushing them, or they were so nervous that they were nearly wetting themselves in front of the talent scouts. The few that actually had confidence in themselves read the lines, but to Hiko it just felt like one of those days where rush hour traffic was standing still and he didn't have a jar to piss in.

"Look, Calhoun's being too specific on how he wants these kids," Hiko said. He sat down with the talent scouts while they were on break. "I say we just give up here. This is nonsense."

"Calhoun knows what he wants in a kid, and we're gonna deliver it for him," one of the scouts said. Hiko crossed his arms and leaned his head back. It was an impossibly hot spring afternoon and they were sitting in direct sunlight. Hiko licked his lips and pulled a flask out from the bag that he had carried with him. "Really, right now?" One of the scouts scoffed.

"You want me to take a chill pill or not?" Hiko nearly barked.

"Can we have the next one please?" The second scout asked, ignoring the assistant director and the partner scout.

Hiko wiped his mouth off and capped the flask, hiding it between his thighs. A little boy came up onto the stage in a pair of overalls and a long sleeved shirt. Hiko leaned forward with a grin cracked on his face. The kid had a cocky little grin, and he was walking towards them like he were a cowboy walking into a saloon. "Can you tell us your name?"

"Kenshin, but you can call me Kenny," he said. He showed his teeth, one of which was missing, in a face splitting smile. "You know, you guys, I want the part, and I know you're gonna give it to me."

"Is that so?" one of the scouts said.

"Yep. I'm just the kid for the part. I got spunk, and I like to rough house. And I can dance! Wanna see?" Hiko started laughing and shaking his head.

"We wanna see you recite a couple of lines. Can you do that for us Kenny?"

The little red headed boy who had spunk and who said he could dance looked at the talent scouts, grinned his face splitting grin, and began to spew out the lines of the Pilot, pretending the entire way that there was someone else there. In the background his mother looked like she was a horse galloping in place. Hiko gave a lopsided smile and looked back to the boy who bowed in his place when he was finished and announced: "I'm done! Thank you!" Before walking off without having to be told to leave.

After that, Hiko was scarce around Kenshin except when he got the opportunity to direct some of the sitcom episodes. He had a fondness for the boy, able to see the good parts in his acting, but the bad parts in his tantrums.

* * *

"The kid had a tantrum for everything," Hiko said, his eyes travelling to Kaoru's tape recorder. "Co-workers, set workers…_directors_…he was like an adult bottled in a kid's body. There were days where we wouldn't shoot because he said that it wasn't right. After the season one finale, we were at his mercy."

"How could you possibly be at a child's mercy?"

"Well, I wasn't, but everyone else would bend backwards for him because they realized that he was their bread and butter."

"So the sitcom was doing well?"

"So said the Nielson ratings," Hiko nodded. "It had a good run."

Kaoru leaned back in her seat. "Why'd the sitcom end so suddenly if it was doing so well?"

"It sort of ended itself. One of those things where they ran out of story ideas and their actors were getting too old. I really didn't care because I was onto bigger things. Been directing some of my own movies because I was getting tired of sitcoms. Thought I'd never see the kid again, but of course he seemed to show up on my doorstep."

"What do you mean?"

"He'd remembered me from the first days, and when he found out that there was a movie that I was working on, well, he wanted to be a part of it. He literally showed up on my porch one day at like…four in the morning. Didn't wake me up, but he did surprise me. He was like…twelve I think."

* * *

Hiko took in a deep breath as his legs began to ache. Sweat was beginning to dapple his face. He had the radio turned on a news station, but he wasn't paying attention to it, just his workout. The early mornings were some of the only personal times he got. At least, most mornings. When he heard the distinct sound of the doorbell, he was forced to turn off the treadmill and look over his shoulder.

Whoever it was, they were persistent. He stepped off the treadmill and on his way to the front door he grabbed a towel and wiped his neck off. He was expecting one of his assistants, a crazy producer, or a writer demanding that he look at their work. When he opened the door he was surprised to see a short boy standing in front of him. "What do you want?"

"I want to talk to you."

Hiko rolled his eyes. "You and Walter Cronkite," he just about shut the door, but something stopped him. "What the hell could you want to talk about at four in the morning? Hm? Does your mother know where you are?"

"Yes. She drove me," he said and pointed to the driveway where a car was idling. "I wanted to talk to you about the new thing you're working on."

"Let me guess…you want a part?" Hiko asked. He didn't wait for the kid to say yea or nay. "Auditions are over. We're mulling over the decisions now, so you'll just have to see if you made it out of the cesspool, all right?"

"Oh, I know that," the boy took a step forward. "I still want to talk about it.'

Hiko furrowed his brows. "What?"

"See, my friend's in on it too. He tried out for a different part, and I was hoping that you would remember him 'cause he's sometimes not all that memorable."

Hiko crossed my arms and leaned against the doorframe. "Should I be taking notes kid?" The boy stepped into the light of the doorway and he smiled. The thing about Kenshin was his sweet and inviting face. It was why he was appealing, and it was why that everyone wanted to pick him up. The thing about it was that he'd been turning everyone down and Hiko wasn't sure why. Of course, him showing up on Hiko's doorstep might have answered a few questions. At least it did until they boy brought up his friend.

"Look, kid, I have no power here. I trust the casting crew. I gave them directions, they'll give me people."

His bluish purple eyes were begging. Hiko clenched his jaw and let his arms fall to his sides as though he were exhausted. "You want to come inside for a few minutes? See if I can't drill this into your skull?"

Kenshin nodded and walked passed Hiko into the house. The director poked his head out of his door and looked to the driveway where there was a parked car. He could make out a woman in the driver's seat, narrowly seeing the glow of her face by the glow of a cigarette. She didn't seem concerned. Hiko closed the door and ushered the boy into his living room. He flicked off the radio.

"Look, there's a pecking order," Hiko began. "And actors may be important, but I'm going to make my decisions, and the casting is going to make theirs. So on and so forth. Actors make the movies, but it's also the movies that make the actors."

"I understand that," Kenshin said, "but Sam's a good guy," he leaned back in a chair that nearly engulfed him. "I mean Sam Sagara, you know? I'm not trying to sway how you thinking; I was just wanting to put it in your mind." And Kenshin got up. Hiko showed him out. His mother swerved out of the driveway and disappeared in the distance.

* * *

"He ruled his parents, I'll say that much. That kid had a lot of power over people. I don't know what it was…it was probably his face. He just had this way about looking at you and telling you something. He never demanded anything that he didn't think was important."

"So the tantrums..?"

"He was a spoiled rotten brat who wanted things his way. Those tantrums were almost like a distraction…if he really wanted something he would just plant the seed and let it fester. I'll admit it hit me a few times, at least as far as casting was concerned. I turned down a few good actors because he thought there would be better ones to choose from. Which, I'll admit, he was right."

"So you took on Sam Sagara after that night?"

"Yeah, yeah I took on the bugger. He was like…five years younger than Kenny. He was a little twerp with a big attitude, but just like Kenny, he got the job done. I used him a lot after that movie. Him and Kenny worked together all the time. Even in the last production in '89 they were working together. Him, Sam, and Tammy."

"Did he convince you to include Sam and Tammy for that production?"

Hiko shrugged and looked to the wall on his left. Kaoru copied the motion and let the images from the posters sink in. They were posters from Hiko's old movies, and two of them had Kenny in them. "Yeah. I guess you could say that. He was headstrong about that movie especially, and especially about having Tammy in it with him."

Kaoru, feeling confident, picked the tape recorder up and pressed it between her hands. "Would you say that was part of the reason that he disappeared? Because he was so headstrong?"

Hiko rolled his eyes. "'Disappeared'…that's so stupid," he pulled the flask out again and took a sip. "Look, I don't know what you expect to slip out, but no one's going to talk about that summer. I'll give you this much of a clue, just so you can be assuaged: That kid sabotaged everything for himself. He had a career ahead of him. A few Oscars, acting, directing, whatever. That kid had an eye. That summer…"

Hiko leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. He seemed pressed, and his eyes poised at the tape recorder. Kaoru folded into the same position, her eyes on him. She brought the tape recorder a little closer to him.

"Why won't anyone talk about it Mr. Seijuuro? Why is it so bad that you're never allowed to talk about it again?"

"Because…"his voice cracked, and it sounded as though his mouth had gone dry. "It's none of the media's damn business. Not even now. Not now, not ever! Now get out! Go bother someone else with your questions."

Kaoru stood from her place; the tape recorder dropped by her thigh. She offered Hiko a hand and raised her brows, hoping that he would take her gesture. The director wasn't so courteous. He opened the door; all the sound from the stage flooding back in. Kaoru took her leave.

* * *

A/N: This is part one. Kenshin will be more prominant in part two. Promise.


	2. Parts 4 through 6

A/N: Well...this is going to be more than a two shot...sorry. It's not going to be a great long multichapter...maybe only one more section and an epilogue so...enjoy it while it lasts...let's let the mystery unravel itself...

* * *

**IV.**

* * *

Once Kaoru finished her (annoying) interview with the director, she made her way to the hospital that was nearest where she had called from. Once she walked inside, she wondered if she would be able to see Shinta, even though she was the one that had called 911. She took in a deep breath and walked up to the nurse's station.

"Ahem," she cleared her throat to get the attention of the male nurse behind the desk. After a little bit of goading she was able to get the room number out of the man, mostly by convincing him that she was Shinta's girlfriend and that she desperately needed to see him.

While standing in the elevator, she wondered for a moment what she would say to him. And then she wondered what she would call him. When she asked his name, he told her to refer to him as Shinta, but by knowing that he went by Kenny, and that the name he went by as a child was Kenshin, the only thing that she could really do was speculate.

All she did was think of words, and by the time that she got to the door of the wing that he was in, there was nothing to show for it. She had her mouth closed with the words knocking on her teeth, but she didn't think any of it would matter.

She entered and tried to be soundless. She was met with the gaze of an old man lying in the first bed. Kaoru bowed her head to him and walked on to the second bed on her right side. Shinta was lying there, half asleep, with his hands rested neatly over his stomach.

It was maybe without all of the clothes on that she could see him clearly. His collar bones stuck out of his skin like twigs that had been jammed up underneath. His wrists were so small that the band around one of them looked heavy. Instead of being free flowing like he had been on the street, dancing and looking jovial, his body had turned angular, rough, and somewhat cocked. Almost like his weathered hands.

"You're the girl from earlier," he surprised her by speaking. Kaoru nodded. She approached him closer, and she noticed a gleam on his skin where the nurses had likely lathered his sunburned face with some kind of aloe cream. There was a clear definition between where his clothes had covered his skin and what skin was exposed.

Kaoru couldn't stop herself from putting her hand over top of his. She wanted to feel how rough they were, maybe just to know that it was real. "Kaoru, right?" he asked. The girl nodded and ran her fingers along some of the cracks that were etch on his palms. He didn't deny her, only watched with an amused twinkle in his eyes.

"Look, I uh…"she pulled away from him, afraid that she was being too intimate. She wanted to ask him so many questions, but just by looking at him she felt that she wouldn't get any answers. Instead she pulled a business card from her portfolio and scribbled over it. "I know this is random but, you did pass out on me and…and I feel involved now," she admitted, and she slipped the card into his hand. "Have you heard anything from the doctor?"

"No," he shook his head. "They told me that they would be running tests, and they put me in here. So I guess I'm just waiting."

"They say what they think is wrong?"

Shinta shrugged. "Not really. It could be anything since I passed out."

Even as he spoke about himself, it seemed as though he was speaking about someone else while he was doing it. Kaoru shook her head and tried to imagine this man dressed neatly and fed well. For a moment, the image of the teen star flashed before her eyes. She could see the precocious face that he had, and the gleaming eyes that convinced anyone to do what he wanted.

"I want you to call me when you get word," Kaoru said, and she tapped the hand that she had placed the card in. "Will you?"

"Of course," he nodded. "Where are you going?"

"I have to catch a flight for a job," she said. "I'll be back by tomorrow night at the latest, alright? I'll come back and see you."

He nodded, and his eyes were transfixed on the business card. Kaoru left after that, knowing that if she didn't separate that she was bound to miss her flight.

* * *

**V.**

* * *

On the plane ride from Los Angeles to Dulles airport, Kaoru listened to the recording of her and Hiko and began compiling useful information. Despite the director's rudeness, she couldn't deny that he had given her decent enough anecdotes to provide a background story. As she listened further, she could hear some kind of sympathy or guilt in his voice, as though everything he was saying was going to be said at a wake.

Kaoru rented a car to take her from the airport and started south into Virginia. In her hands were directions to a small town where a film shoot was taking place. She was next going to talk to Sam Sagara. Though Kamatari had a rough time coming up with Sam's location, the man was more the happy to talk to Kaoru. As she spoke to him over the phone, Kaoru made it clear what she was going to talk about as she didn't want to be denied by him like she had with Hiko. Sam only laughed at her and said: "Well, I see what I do for you, but I can't promise that it will be a whole lot."

The journalist slowed the car as she reached an exit, not sure that she was in the right place. There was a sign that was pointing to the town that she had written down on the paper. There seemed to be little sign of life, especially if there was a film crew in the vicinity. She travelled the length of the exit until it became a bumpy mess. She pulled off at a gas station and sat there drinking in the scenery.

Sam had left a number for her "in case she got lost". She could see why. The little town was fairly simple looking, but all the same, there was nothing telling her where exactly she should go. With a bit of fear in her stomach, Kaoru pulled out her cell phone and dialed. She'd spoken to people that were more powerful than Sam (hell, she had just spoken to Hiko Seijuuro, a man who was notorious for turning down interviews), but Sam was the kind of guy that she wouldn't mind being friends with, or even (if the world were just) going out with. She dialed the number and waited several heartbeats, telling herself that after ten she would hang up. He answered on nine.

"Sam Sagara," Kaoru took a deep breath.

"Hi, it's Kaoru Kamiya."

"Yeah, hey Missy," Kaoru raised a brow at the nickname. "I take it ya can't find me?"

"I found a Sunoco, that's about it," the journalist put her hand on her stomach, the airline pretzels and soda not enough to appease her. "Where do I go from there?"

"Just take the road you were taking when coming in until you two churches directly across from each other. Take a right and continue down that road. You'll see a ruddy blue pickup. That'll be me waiting for you."

Kaoru turned out on the road the moment that Sam had started talking. She was halfway down that road by the time finished his explanation. She laughed and hung up with him, afraid that she was going to say something stupid. For some reason, whenever she got the opportunity to speak to someone that she really wanted to speak to, interviewee or otherwise, she always sounded more sober when she was in person than when she was on the phone.

The old truck was hard to miss, and Sam was even harder. He leaned against the side of the truck casually, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes poised toward Kaoru as she slowed to approach him. He raised a hand and waved to her. Kaoru's heart melted.

It took the journalist a moment to gather her bearings and feel professional. Sam was approaching her car as she gathered her things. When she jammed her tape recorder into her coat pocket, he was knocking on her window. Kaoru rolled it down and smiled, and a giddy and nervous laughter hid in the back of her throat.

"Prettier than I thought you would be," Sam said. Kaoru got out of the car and stood in front of Sam with her knees knocking together like first grader. "Sano Sagara, nice ta meet ya."

"Sano? Don't go by Sam?"

"Well, I do but I figure since you seem to have the Japanese heritage thing going on that it I could be a little lax. People probably call you…what…Carrie?"

"Sometimes."

"Names are names. I mean, technically Sagara isn't my original last name but it's still official. My mom remarried and I took the second guys name, it was easier I guess, 'specially in this biz."

"So, was Sam suggested by your manager or agent or whoever?"

"Nah," he batted his hand dramatically. "My Mom's not Japanese so I was always called Sam at home. They just named me traditionally 'cause that's why my dad wanted," he shrugged. "Anyways enough about me, why don't we start?"

"Start?" she looked around at where they stood on the side of the road. Though it was neatly barren, only a few houses nearby, Kaoru didn't know if it was exactly the best place to be conducting an interview. She looked back up at Sam who had taken her lead and began looking around as well.

"Guess this isn't an opportune place for you?" Sano asked. Kaoru raised her brows when he nudged his hand behind her back and began to lead her down the road. "But…the cars…?"

"No one will take the cars," Sano said. "And I don't know about you, but I like keeping my keys on me."

Kaoru smiled brightly. "Yeah, guess that's true."

They walked for what seemed to be about a mile and chewed over nothing as though they were friends for the longest time. Sano did most of the talking, and Kaoru was giggling at everything he said because everything seemed to be a joke. He only stopped walking once to light up a cigarette, but even then he didn't stop talking.

"You do this to all the journalists you talk to?" she managed to ask as he took a breath.

"All what journalists?" he replied.

"Well, I mean, I'm sure you talk to journalists all the time," Kaoru said. "I mean, you are a movie star and stud-stuff," she didn't catch herself, but Sano only laughed at her. "Sorry. It's what I meant though."

"No need to apologize. It's a nice compliment since they have me with this shitty hairdo," Sano ran his hand through the thick mane that hung to his shoulders. The only thing that had it tamed was a bandanna wrapped around his forehead. The more that Kaoru looked at him, the more that she realized he looked like any eighties rock star—at least from the neck up.

"I guess I should ask what kind of movie they have you doing then?"

"It's kinda hush hush, but I can tell you that it's going to be a major main role for me. It's gonna be good. I can feel came at the perfect time too, let me tell you. They've been running me ragged with all these scenes. Guess I asked for it. It's fun, don't get me wrong, but I'm doing ten, twelve hours at a time. I told them today that I was exhausted and if they wanted any good acting they were going to have to wait for me."

"Something tells me you're lying."

Sanosuke shrugged. "What's it matter? You're gonna get your interview ain't ya?"

"I got a time limit?" Kaoru asked. Now they were standing outside a yoke yellow building, and the journalist kept looking at it and wondering if they were going into it. It wasn't a private residence, but it wasn't too public looking because only two cars were in the parking lot.

"No, not in least. But I won't keep you too long. You probably got a lot of investigating you're doing," he eased her towards the yellow building. "I hope I don't offend ya by getting grub in the meantime." Sano tossed the cigarette to the ground and stubbed it out.

"No, no, it's fine."

They walked into the building which Kaoru figured out was a restaurant, though it didn't have the feel on the outside. Other than a small placard hanging from the porch, it looked like a badly renovated house that was made into a restaurant on a pipe dream. Still, she always liked country cooking and she wasn't about to deny something to eat, especially if she was sitting down with Sanosuke.

"Why Sam," a girl came out from behind a counter. "You seem to like my cookin' don't ya?"

"Brought a friend this time," Sanosuke said. "You don't mind if we go outside though, do ya? I know you don't have it open but I'd like this to be kinda private."

The woman nodded and led them to the back. "So, what would you two like to drink?"

"Coke okay with you?" Sanosuke asked. Kaoru nodded. "Two Cokes please."

The woman left, and when Sanosuke looked back to Kaoru her tape recorder was out and ready. She had her hands neatly folded over a writing pad, and her eyes were poised at Sanosuke with a hard stare. She had lost the bubbly and gone to the professional. Sanosuke bobbed his shoulders and leaned his elbows on the table.

"Sorry to suck the fun out of this, but I want to get to business," Kaoru said. In the back of her mind was that she had given Shinta her phone number and she was waiting for him to use it at any random time. She could think of many things that could cause him to pass out and bleed from his nose, yet none of them seemed promising. She told herself that she should have felt his head for any odd lumps, but up until now she wasn't considering any diseases.

"It's all right. I understand. Ask your questions."

"Well, to start, how old were you when you first met Kenny Hartman?"

"Kenny? Well, I'd say I met him when I was like…six, seven maybe. I got lucky and was a guest star on _It's a Big Deal_ and I was playing his cousin on there. I ended up with a reoccurring role 'cause he wanted to work with me. 'Course, that was till he was twelve."

"What'd you think about him?"

"He was a little shit most of the time. Not in the bad way, I mean, but he was a nosy little thing. He wanted to know a lot of things, and he was always into what was going on when we were on set. I watched him this one day…he walked up to Hiko, this was early on mind you, and he started talking to him like he was twenty. I swear Hiko was looking this kid and the eye and going 'what the hell' but he was still paying attention."

"Hiko said he usually took Kenny's advice," Kaoru said. "Said that there was something about his face that was convincing. Do you think so?"

"Convincing? Sure, he was a cute kid. And as he got older, he was just blessed with those good looks. There was a magic about it. Plus the kid was smart as shit. He talked like an adult, but then again, he was an only child," Sanosuke leaned back in his seat when the waitress brought out the drinks. She asked for their orders, and Kaoru ordered lightly while Sanosuke ordered what sounded like a four course meal. "One thing you need to understand is that Hiko's a little biased on the kid."

"Why's that?"

"Well, other than the fact that he thought of the kid as his own half the time? See, Kenny was close to Hiko for a long time, don't let anyone fool you. The sourpuss only says the shit he says because he's guilty."

"Guilty? What's he guilty for?"

"See, this is where I get hazy," Sanosuke leaned back. "It was during that summer, I think. There was a lot of weird shit that was going on."

"Like what?"

"Well, something was happening to Kenshin. He was just turning into this rebellious kid. Not like having all night parties with strippers rebellious, but he wasn't listening to his parents, he was skipping work, and he was getting in with the wrong crowd a little."

"What? Drugs?"

Sanosuke shrugged. "I don't know if he ever actually did them, I just know that he was around Tammy a lot, and Tammy had this bad tendency. You see…Tammy didn't flower into the industry until she was about sixteen. She was three years older than Ken, give or take, but he took to her immediately. She started out as a model, nothing big but enough to catch Ken's eye. He hounded and hounded Hiko till he took her on for a movie. She didn't have much talent but, between you and me, she had the greatest set of ha-has and when you put her in a movie where she wore a bikini, boy did it sell."

Kaoru grimaced at Sanosuke description, but he seemed quite proud. Kaoru tapped her fingers against the table and leaned her head to both sides. After there was a mild silence, Kaoru rolled her hand, insinuating that Sanosuke needed to go on. He ran his fingers through his hair and thought a moment.

"She was knee deep in shit before she came to Hiko, mostly because her other model friends had gotten her into a coupla things. I don't know what she was into really; probably coke, maybe some pot…I don't know. Either way, her drawing Ken in was pissing Hiko off. She was going with Kenshin; secretly I guess you could say, because she was with this sports guy, Akira."

"Kiyosato? The tennis player?"

"Yeah," he nodded, and his lips pursed together when the food was brought out and placed before them. He rubbed his hands together, and Kaoru was surprised that he wasn't drooling on himself. He pulled up a napkin and curled it in one hand, the other taking the fork and stabbing it into what looked like pulled pork. "See, she was engage to Kiyosato at the time. Everyone knew about it, thought it was a good pair, but she was off flinging with Kenshin. Now, I don't know if they did anything…but, I wouldn't doubt it."

Sanosuke didn't mind talking with his mouth full. Kaoru shook her head and picked at her salad. "So what happened that day? Where you're hazy about stuff?"

"Well, it was in August, real hot day. That kinda day where you're so miserable that you don't even want to get out of your chair. I had arrived real early that morning, was all decked out for the movie scene. I was ten; I noticed that Hiko and Tammy had went into a trailer and hadn't come out, and I needed to talk to Hiko about something, so I went up and opened the door. Neither noticed. When I opened it I could hear voices…."

* * *

"… clean up your fucking act," Hiko's voice was hushed. Sanosuke craned his neck to look into the trailer. At the far end, Hiko had Tammy backed into a corner and was jabbing a finger at her. Despite her position, she was hardly afraid. In fact, she hardly looked like she was anything but a zombie. Her eyes were glassy and she looked a little weak in the knees. She laughed.

"Yeah, what are you gonna do it Mr. Hot-Shot Director?" her voice had a seductive tone that even the ten year old couldn't miss. "Hm? Ya gonna punish me for it? Huh?"

Tammy reached out and touched his wrist. Hiko drew away. "You're an ignorant bitch sometimes. You're given the world on a platter and you're going to waste it on this nonsense! I'd think if Ken vouched for you, the least you could do is try to look upstanding."

Tammy wavered, walking forward. "C'mon, let me say I'm sorry, all right? I won't do it ever again."

She was pushed up against the wall. The trailer shook. Sanosuke jolted and hid a gasp by covering his mouth.

"I will not have you ruining me and everything I've worked for. My reputation is at stake if this goes public, and I'm not about to have an ignorant bitch like you ruin it for me."

Tammy got a sly little grin and put her hands out again, pressing them somewhere below Hiko's belt. The director back away from her and made sure that he was at an angle that she couldn't touch him.

"You're not working today; I forbid it. And if you come like this _ever again_ I will make sure no one in this town will hire you. Got that?"

Tammy was steady, her arms at her sides, her head cocked to the side as though she were a confused little child. At the time, Sanosuke adored her. She was tall, lithe, and had an overall look to her that just screamed model. The way she walked, the way to she talked. She was his fantasy before he knew how to get creative.

Hiko looked over and saw him peaking in the doorway. "What are you doing?" he asked, and rushed over, ushering Sanosuke out. "You've got better things to be doing than gawking. You and Ken have lines to work on."

* * *

"He pushed me all the way to the set that day, and I didn't say a word. I mean, now that I think about it, it all makes sense. Tammy had come to the set high or…did it while she was there and Hiko found out. Of course, he was pissed. See…he's pretty strict about his beliefs, and he's always stuck by a code of his own. It's a good code, nothing wrong, except when you cross it."

"Why's that so important to what happened to Kenny?"

Sanosuke set down his fork and napkin and leaned back in his seat. His face went pensive. "It was that day. Hiko had wanted me to go and do lines with Ken, but when I found him, Hiko pulled him aside and started talking to him. I really didn't pay attention. Ken walked to the trailer. Never really saw him much after that…"

"He…went missing? Took off or something?"

Sanosuke chuckled. "If he took off, he hid in plain sight," he pulled a phone from his pocket and pressed a few buttons. "I always like to keep this picture on me, just 'cause it reminds me that he was still out there."

Kaoru leaned in, and she scribbled on her notepad as she looked at the black and white photo. The grayish hair and skin with just enough light bouncing off his forehead to make it shine. He was wearing sunglasses and a button up shirt, half open. He looked defined, like a yuppie only much more hip. "That was 1993; it was a Calvin Klein advertisement. I knew it was him the moment I looked at him. You never forget him."

"Wouldn't Hiko know this was him?" Kaoru asked. She stared at the picture, knowing that the features were the same. Nineteen years old…he didn't look homeless. He looked fit and trim; healthy.

"He might have if he'd seen it. He might have let it go, you know? Fooled himself that it wasn't Kenshin. You see…Hiko lost a part of himself when he lost Kenshin."

"So he…disappeared that day?"

"Sorta. See, there was this accident."

"Accident?"

Sanosuke nodded. "Kinda hush hush, too. Something that Tammy was involved in."

"What happened?"

"Well…far as I know, she tried to drive herself home and got into a bad wreck. Car looked like she should have been sawed in half, but she survived. Don't know if I'd call her lucky though I mean…she was comatose for weeks. Floating in limbo. I think Ken left because he thought it was his fault somehow."

"Why would it be his fault?"

"I don't know. He was crazy like that," Sanosuke rolled his eyes. "I wish it hadn't drove him off, whatever it was, but this picture sorta tells me that there was something for him. He wasn't completely left alone in the world. 'A course, his parents didn't know a thing about it. As far as I know his Dad's cirrhotic and his mother's working as a waitress in Bakersfield."

"He fired them, right?"

"Yeah." He picked at his food. "They never reported him missing, so I guess maybe they knew. I don't think you'd ever get a word out of the, so I wouldn't go trying."

"What about Tammy? You think she'd know?"

Sanosuke shook his head. "Doubt she remembers much. See, the accident left her in a state that was less than fortunate. Luckily, Akira didn't care what she was like, he loved her. He kept on the tennis circuit for a while, as you probably know, but in the meantime he was taking care of Tammy because her injuries were so compromising."

"Do many know what's wrong with her?"

"I don't even know that much, I just know she fell of the map and no one really cared. She was just a model and a mediocre actress at best. Plus, with the fact that Ken went missing, it was almost completely covered up, so if anyone did notice, they didn't say much."

Kaoru turned off the tape recorder. "So, would I be expecting too much if I went and seen her?" she asked, finishing up the rest of her food. "Or, could I even go and see her?"

"You could. Akira would probably let you talk to her. He'd probably know a bit about what happened that day…" he paused at the sound of Kaoru's phone ringing. She pulled it out and pressed it to her ear.

"Shinta?" she asked, almost breathless. "Shinta, wha…what's the matter? Talk…talk slower. Please…I don't…I don't understand. What…?" she paused, and Sanosuke leaned forward when she saw her face go stricken. "Shinta? Shinta?" She brought the phone down and looked at it. She pressed a button and put it up to ear again. After a few moments she brought it down again. "Can…can you give me Tammy and Akira's address?"

Sanosuke lowered his head. "Shinta? He…he used to call himself that…have you been talking to him?"

"It's why I'm doing this," she said. "I found him the other day; he had passed out and I got him help…now…I just…he was muttering about something, and I don't know what he was talking about. It was…"She shook her head. "I…I have to do. Okay?"

"Hey," Sanosuke got up and followed her. "Here, let me give you the address and phone number," he said, taking the pen and writing it on her notepad. "Where…where was he? In L.A.?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "I gotta get back to L.A., see if he's alright."

Sanosuke looked back at the restaurant. "All right. I'll…see you later."

* * *

**VI.**

* * *

But when Kaoru got back to Los Angeles, there was no Shinta to be found. When she arrived at the hospital and asked for him, they told her that he walked out of the hospital of his own accord. "Why would you let him do that?" she demanded. "He…he might be really sick."

The nurse was resigned and didn't give Kaoru a definitive answer. She left the hospital and looked around, wondering if he was close by. It had been hours. He could have been anywhere in L.A. or anywhere in California, as far as she was concerned. She sighed and thought about the phone call. He was talking quickly, something like a con. He didn't sound the same as he did when she visited him before. It was like he had drawn into some alternate realm. He sounded like an annoying teenager that was telling her off. He was stuttering, too.

Kaoru was reluctant to leave toward Malibu to visit Akira and Tammy. As she made her way down, she kept her eyes out for Shinta wherever she thought he might be. She never saw him, and wondered what had happened to him in those moments during that phone call. It was almost like he didn't recognize her. He was mumbling a name, but it wasn't Kaoru.

Kaoru stopped her search, at least mentally, and delved herself toward the mission of speaking to Akira and Tammy as the cab pulled up to the semi-palatial home. She would have expected something grander considering Akira's once proud status as a professional tennis player. She looked at the address to make sure it was right. Before she got there, she had called to make sure they were in. It was Akira who had answered. His disposition was calm, and when she made her request, he showed a moment of reluctance before telling her it was alright.

She rang the doorbell and clutched her portfolio tight, nervous that she would be rejected at the last minute (which had happened to her more than she would have liked). She heard footsteps approach and her lips upturned. The door opened to a man who looked to be able forty something, though handsome in his own right. He wore a neat polo shirt and slacks and poked out the door cautiously.

"Hi, Mr. Kiyosato," Kaoru extended her hand. "I'm Kaoru Kamiya; I'm the one you talked to on the phone with."

"Ah, yes Ms. Kamiya. Please, come in," he opened the door to a large foyer. "You got here at the perfect time, Tomoe's feeling well today."

Kaoru wanted to pretend that she didn't know the things that Sanosuke had told her. "That's good to hear."

"Would you like something to drink? Coffee, tea?"

"No thanks. I sorta…filled myself on soda on the flight."

The foyer branched of into two different directions. To her left was a dining room that was hanging off of the kitchen. To her left was an open living room that had a tropical feel to it and just behind it was a large window that led to a deck. She could see the ocean just beyond it, the waves crashing gently against the white beaches. "Would she prefer to be called Tomoe?" asked Kaoru. "Most people call her Tammy."

"She responds better to Tomoe," Akira said. He took slow and steady steps into the living room. Kaoru was searching for the girl that he remembered from the picture. She was a beauty queen. Her skin was light and creamy, like a pearl, but her hair was dark as onyx and had very little sheen. She was sure the girl would be aged into a fine looking older woman. Even as she had thoughts of the kind of accident that Tomoe might have been in, she couldn't count it into the equation.

Akira was heading towards the deck, and Kaoru was following shortly behind, anxiety building. The man was speaking quietly to someone on the deck, but Kaoru was unable to see if it was Tomoe or not. She crinkled her nose and stood, inching toward the deck. When Akira looked up, he motioned for her to come outside.

"Someone wants to talk to you," Akira said softly. When Kaoru saw Tomoe, she was jolted by the figure. She wasn't revolting. There were remnants of beauty splashed over her face; her skin was still pale, and her hair was still an onyx like before, but the poise and grace she had was faded away as she leaned awkwardly to the right, her cheek nearly touching her shoulder. Though there were no marks on her face other than Time's lines, she could clearly see a large gash across the woman's stomach where it was partially exposed. Akira picked the woman up from the lounge chair and placed her in a wheelchair, her eyes forward. "You don't mind talking to her do you?"

Akira pulled up a chair for Kaoru and urged her to sit. He was in the middle of them like a referee, his hands on his knees. Kaoru's heart beat heavily, and she pouted. The images of Tomoe floated to her mind, and she had nearly discounted the memory that Sanosuke had told her. She blinked a few times and pulled out her tape recorder.

"My name is Kaoru Kamiya," Kaoru said, "I…I was wondering if you wouldn't mind talking about the summer of 1989. I'm doing an article."

If there was any emotion that Kaoru could ever remember from the interview, it was watching as Tomoe's eyes widen and her mouth twitch. Her arm curled toward her chest, though her fingers seemed to enjoy moving in the opposite direction. She was looking to Akira for guidance, but he was staying quiet.

"I…I'll….talk," her words were coarse, as though she had sand in her mouth and was speaking between the times that she would grind the sand. She took careful breaths and looked around at the world for her own leisure. "What do you…do you want to know?"

"I've been talking to some people," she said. "I spoke with…Hiko and Sano these past few days." The look was dying away, but Kaoru could sense some kind of urgency in Tomoe that she couldn't exactly explain. Tomoe was looking toward the ocean, and her wrist was turning in some kind of turn that seemed more rhythmic than anything else. "Sano told me about a day that happened in August, and that after that day, Kenny Hartman disappeared."

"Ken…Kenshin," she said, correcting Kaoru. "Kenshin Himura. I…I remember him," she nodded to herself. "Confident boy…l-love s-struck."

"That's what Sano told me. Said he had a great interest in you. But he told me about one day that wasn't so nice. About the day that you were hurt."

Akira straightened his back. Kaoru could imagine him lunging toward her, or steering her on another course, away from the accident so Tomoe wouldn't have to think about it. Kaoru could already see the gears in the woman's head turning as she tried to recover the memories. As Kaoru waited, she looked to Tomoe's legs which, from the knee, seemed very crooked. One of her ankles was in a brace. Her toenails were painted purple.

"Kogoro was a wonderful man…"she said. Kaoru had to think a moment, but realized that she was talking about the producer.

"Kogoro Katsura?"

"He… he was the one that was…nice and helped…Ken…as he helped with the movie…"

"What do you mean?"

Tomoe must have been laughing, but it sounded more like a dying cough. "He was…in love with…m-me. Kogoro was…had a wife and…and family bu…but he loved me. So…so he was willing to he…help me out any way that he….he could. And when Ken came with…a movie, he…helped. I think he…played cards with Hiko…"

"So Kenshin used leverage to get you into the movie."

"I…I…"she looked lost and turned to Akira again. Akira only nodded to her as some king of reassurance. "M-men loved me…and…and it took me a while to….to realize that I…only loved A-A-Akira. Before then…before then I loved many, many men….and I loved Kogoro…and I loved Ken…and I…used them for whatever I wanted…"

"Did you really love Ken at all? Or was it just so you could further your career?"

"M…em….I loved him...in that way…"she said, and one of her eyes blinked. Kaoru took it for a wink and blushed. "Kogoro had this…t-this nice c-car," she began coughing a little and Akira finally stood. Out of his pocket he drew a handkerchief and he wiped off the corners of her mouth where it seemed that her mouth had filled with saliva. She saw the ring on Akira's finger, and looked to make sure that Tomoe's was reciprocated. She couldn't imagine the kind of life that Akira lived with Tomoe every day. First when he was still on the tennis circuit and she was supposed to be her own, self-sustaining woman. After all these years, love and devotion still lingered. It was to the point that Akira knew all of the trysts and all of the little strives he had went through before he was able to claim Tomoe.

Kaoru wondered if he cherished her incapacity.

When Akira drew away, Kaoru looked back to Tomoe who was trying to choke her words back up.

"Th-that was my favorite car. I…I had told Kogoro that I would have it someday. He would…he would laugh at me and tell me that no…amount of money could buy his…his precious car," she was nodding again. "It…its one of the best memories I have….sitting in the passenger seat next to Ken…I was…holding tight to him…and he was being real pushy and teasing me….I was making it hard on him 'cause he still had his temps…"

"When was that?"

"He had…had to beg Hiko to let me…to let him drive me home…I was out of my mind and…and I didn't think it was a bad idea. It wasn't…far to the hotel. Then…oh that was such a beautiful car…"

Kaoru looked to Akira, still stony, and back to Tomoe as her eyes floated to the sky. "You were hit by Kogoro? And Kenshin was driving?"

"Yes."

"Was the passenger side of the car struck?" Kaoru asked.

"Yes…I…I don't…remember the….the accident well, I…I remember that…Firebird as it…as it came toward us and…and then…."she started to tear up. Akira stood up once again and came by his wife, hugging her delicately. She leaned against his chest. That was when Akira looked at her sternly. He patted his wife on the shoulder and murmured something to her. She nodded.

"I'm going to take her to bed," Kaoru shut off the tape recorder and gathered her things. "You don't have to leave just yet. I can tell you some things just as well as she can."

Akira left her standing on the deck with all of her things bunched up under her arm. She looked around at the serenity of the Malibu beach, and it brought her comfort to watch as the waves came crashing against the sand. A strong gust of wind came, blowing right through Kaoru as though she had holes all over her body. She chilled and looked around, waiting for Akira to come back.

When he did, Kaoru turned and gave a weak smile, as if there was no happiness in the household and she wasn't allowed to bring any in with her as Akira coaxed her inside and pulled the curtain closed. The light in the room dimmed, and the sound of the ocean became muffled.

"She's never been well after," he said.

"I'm sorry if I caused any problems," Kaoru said. "I didn't mean to bring up anything that I shouldn't have."

"Its fine," Akira replied. "She gets tired and cries a lot," he said it with no sympathy and Kaoru only wished that she had her tape recorder on to catch it. She flicked it on. "She's been fragile for the longest time. When she was in the accident, they didn't think that she would survive. She had multiple internal and external injuries…brain damage naturally. I know this is crazy but that'd when I figured out how much I loved her.

"They…they told me that she'd never walk again. The brain damage might leave her with short term memory loss…amnesia…lots of other difficulties I can't even remember. I just kept thinking about how she would be okay and that we'd get through this, and we did. When she was well enough we got married. It was nice."

"Not to…be rude," Kaoru said, not entirely interested in the life of the couple. "The day of the accident, were you nearby?"

"No, I was pretty far away and I didn't get the news until later that afternoon."

"Were you there pretty immediately?"

"As soon as I was able," he said. "I…I forfeited a match because of it."

Kaoru nodded and scribbled on her notepad. "Did you ever see Ken after the accident?"

"Yeah, once," Akira tapped his fingers against his chin. "It was real late at night and I was in the ICU with Tomoe. He came through the door, just him. He looked real hazy. He was taken to the doctor too. He had hit his head against the window pretty hard and had a thick bandage across the side of his face," Akira motioned by swiping down the left side. "I didn't think he'd say anything to me, and he didn't. He just walked up to Tomoe and looked at her, crying."

* * *

The room was very dim. There was an orchestra of noises coming from the breathing tubes and the heart monitor. Akira had nearly fallen asleep at Tomoe's side. He couldn't touch any part of her because she seemed so fragile, so he simply sat her side and talked to her, pausing when he could imagine her speaking to him.

He jolted awake when the door opened. The only people that had come since eight were the nurses, but even they were scarce. He looked to the clock that read past eleven and then to the character standing before him looking like a flower that had gotten too much water.

Kenshin walked up to Tomoe and put his hand on the bedrail. Tears immediately came to his eyes and he reached out towards her face, only to pull back. "Oh Tammy…"he shook his head. "I'm so sorry Tammy…I didn't mean to do this."

"It wasn't your fault Ken," Akira reassured him. When Kenshin looked toward Akira, there was a strange half-cocked look. It wasn't something that Akira was familiar with. Kenshin's eyes were usually extremely soft and welcoming, like a young child's. Now they looked rough and wolfish. Akira knew the boy probably had a concussion, just by his manner. "It's Kogoro's fault. He's the one that hit you guys."

"If…if I hadn't been so persistent to drive then she wouldn't be dead."

"Ken," Akira got out of his seat. "I know it's pretty bleak, but she'll survive. I promise," Akira said. "Look at her. She's breathing and she's alive. She's got a pulse."

Kenshin looked up to him as sanely as he possibly could and said: "What are you talking about? She's dead. She's right there…" he nudged away that hand that Akira had placed on his shoulder, and before Akira could try and persuade the teen of anything, he was out the door and down the hall, running toward who Akira believed was Kenshin's mother. The tennis player looked back to his soon to be wife and wondered what Kenshin was seeing. He thought it was just a guilty conscience.

* * *

"I never saw him after that. Like everyone said, he disappeared. He did a vanishing act and never returned to the set, or to see Tomoe or any of his friends. His parents were devastated, but they never said anything."

"So…what do you think was a matter with him?"

"I think something fell loose when he hit his head and it's never been right since. He seemed like it was a temporary lapse but, at the same time, he was so convinced that he was right and I was wrong. I could just see it in him."

Kaoru shut off her tape recorder. She had found her answer, in some way, and she wasn't sure that she wanted to know more. She could write a short article on all of her material and get Kamatari off her back. She could do a lot of things…but they wouldn't feel resolved.

"You think I'd be able to speak with Kogoro?"

"You could, but I don't think he'd be much help. Last I heard, he was pretty sick and not at all with his family," Akira's ears perked at the sound of wailing coming from the other room.

"I'm going to go. Thank you for your time," Akira nodded and quickly showed her to the door.

"I was glad to help," he said, but she felt as though she were pushed out of the house. It was just as well. She sighed and looked down to her tape recorder, her face nearly falling off of the muscles beneath it. She wanted to feel so many things, but sadness was taking over. For Tomoe, for Hiko, for Kogoro, for Akira…but especially for the now missing Kenshin.

That was her next goal: try and find the missing man.

* * *

A/N: this is the end of this section...I hope it all makes sense. If it doesn't, then feel free to ask questions. Till next time, KenSan out!


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